Jude Knight's Blog, page 142
June 16, 2015
Anne Stenhouse and Daisy’s Dilemma
Jude, I’m delighted to be visiting your blog so far away in geographic terms and here in electronic ones, on publication day. If any of your readers wish to leave a comment saying why they’d like a copy of Daisy’s Dilemma, then I’ll select a lucky winner from their number at the end of today’s launch celebrations. Daisy’s Dilemma is e-reader only, but most formats are available.
Anne Stenhouse writes dialogue rich historical romance with humour and a touch of thematic mystery from her Edinburgh home which she shares with her dancing partner husband.
Daisy’s Dilemma – released today, 16 June
There’s an excerpt below in the questions, here’s the blurb:
Lady Daisy Mellon should be ecstatic when her brother, the earl, allows Mr. John Brent to propose. She’s been plotting their marriage for two years. However, she is surprised to find herself underwhelmed and blames their distant cousin, Reuben, for unsettling her.
In the turmoil caused by the earl’s impending wedding, it becomes obvious that there is a hidden enemy within the family. Tensions rise as the great house in London’s Grosvenor Square fills with relatives.
Reuben Longreach wonders whether the earl understands the first thing about Daisy’s nature and her need for a life with more drama than the Season allows. It’s abundantly clear to him that Daisy and John are not suited, but the minx accepts his proposal nonetheless.
Meanwhile Daisy hatches a plan to attach Reuben to her beautiful, beleaguered Scots cousin, Elspeth. Little does she know that Elspeth is the focus of a more sinister plot that threatens Daisy too.
Will Reuben be able to thwart the forces surrounding Daisy before she is irretrievably tied to John? Will Daisy find the maturity to recognise her dilemma may be of her own making before it’s too late?
Buy links
Daisy’s Dilemma from Amazon UK * Kobo * Amazon ca * Amazon au * Amazon US * Amazon NZ
Social media links
An interview with Anne Stenhouse
When did you begin to write, and why?
Most writers will say they’ve always written or at the very least they’ve always been story tellers. I think that’s true of me. I remember having a lovely time at a school camp holding the entire dormitory in my fictional hands as I spun an oral tale about something or other. Can’t remember at this distance in time what it was. I do remember the power and pleasure of the silences and the sudden bursts of laughter or deep collective sighs. I’ve always enjoyed crafting the written word for speech and I suppose that’s why I enjoyed writing plays. I could say I think in conversations as I replay the day’s encounters and change them over and over. And now – novels like Daisy’s Dilemma in which I let rip with the dialogue.
I do think speech and the things we do while speaking create wonderfully dramatic scenes and I hope there are a few in all my books that take readers back whenever they see one of the titles come up. Of course it’s impossible to really know how they spoke in the early nineteenth century, but it’s good fun using appropriate vocabulary words and adding lots of ‘ma’ams’ and ‘your lordships’. I’m also not averse to a bit of inversion – of speech and grammatical patterns.
Why do you write in your chosen genre or genres?
I write ROMANCE because that’s the intense one-to-one relationship I’m most interested in. I may read detective fiction, but I don’t enjoy thrillers where the central relationship, hunter and hunted, is of necessity warped. This is not to say I don’t craft villains whose interest in either the Hero or Heroine might be unhealthy. I do and my villain, Sir Lucas Wellwood, in Mariah’s Marriage, remains one of my favourite created characters. Mariah’s Marriage was my debut novel and Lady Daisy of Daisy’s Dilemma, began life there.
So that might explain romance, why historical? Like many girls, I spent my teenage years reading copiously. In my case, I devoured Jean Plaidy, although today I can’t stand Tudor history and apart from the wonderful Bess of Hardwick, give them all a wide berth. Then came Jane. Austen, of course. Her work is penned at that moment when English became the modern language I recognise. The world she knew was changing so much and so fast. Women were poised to begin the fight for recognition as people, not adjuncts.
Georgette Heyer was next and I have a hardback collection. So, once you run out of the favourites – you need to roll up the sleeves and create your own.
Do you base any of your characters on real people?
Not consciously, no. However, I was approached by the clever fundraisers of St John’s Church in Edinburgh to donate the chance to be a named character in my next book. I agreed and two chances were put forward. So, look out for the Edinburgh neighbour and the Edinburgh family’s coachman in Daisy’s Dilemma.
Basing characters on real people who are alive is a no-no these days. I think in times past writers had a lot of fun, mostly harmless, picking up foibles and simply changing a letter or two in either the first or second name. I’m sure some of them also settled a few scores. Personally, I need to craft. I may recognise a person whose life really needs artistic recognition, but they won’t be interesting enough if you simple put their character traits down on paper. You need to dig a little, embroider a little (for farce, a lot) and make them not just interesting oddities, but compellingly interesting oddities.
What’s your favourite scene and why?
My favourite scene in Daisy’s Dilemma comes near the beginning of the novel and shortly after those Edinburgh relatives mentioned above arrive in the great London townhouse of Daisy’s brother, the Earl of Mellon. Daisy’s older cousin, Elspeth Howie arrives and her appearance, in dowdy tweed and acres of shawls, appals Daisy. But, she is bred to be a hostess and a hostess never makes her guest feel out of place or uncomfortable. Here’s a wee taster:
Daisy’s dilemma, Anne Stenhouse, editor Judy Roth
“Stephens, can someone assist Miss Howie.”
“Don’t worry about me, Lady Daisy,” the girl said, but relinquished a leather grip, two books, a stone hot water pig and a paper wrapper that looked to hold the remains of some bread, when the butler came closer. Daisy watched in fascinated horror while Stephens transferred the haul to a footman. She heard a step coming smartly along the garden passage behind her, Reuben, and saw the smile light Elspeth’s violet eyes when she recognised him.
“Why, it’s cousin Reuben.” Elspeth unwound a shawl from her shoulders and another from around her waist. She allowed a maid to catch them as they slid floor-wards. “I didn’t know you were staying, too.”
Reuben surged forward and enveloped Elspeth. Daisy, surprised by this show of intimacy, stepped aside. When had they met, she wondered. How had they come to know each other so well that a polite bow and curtsey was by-passed in favour of this warmth?
****
We’ll leave them there for the moment.
Jude, I’m delighted to be visiting your blog so far away ...
Jude, I’m delighted to be visiting your blog so far away in geographic terms and here in electronic ones, on publication day. If any of your readers wish to leave a comment saying why they’d like a copy of Daisy’s Dilemma, then I’ll select a lucky winner from their number at the end of today’s launch celebrations. Daisy’s Dilemma is e-reader only, but most formats are available.
Anne Stenhouse writes dialogue rich historical romance with humour and a touch of thematic mystery from her Edinburgh home which she shares with her dancing partner husband.
Daisy’s Dilemma – released today, 16 June
There’s an excerpt below in the questions, here’s the blurb:
Lady Daisy Mellon should be ecstatic when her brother, the earl, allows Mr. John Brent to propose. She’s been plotting their marriage for two years. However, she is surprised to find herself underwhelmed and blames their distant cousin, Reuben, for unsettling her.
In the turmoil caused by the earl’s impending wedding, it becomes obvious that there is a hidden enemy within the family. Tensions rise as the great house in London’s Grosvenor Square fills with relatives.
Reuben Longreach wonders whether the earl understands the first thing about Daisy’s nature and her need for a life with more drama than the Season allows. It’s abundantly clear to him that Daisy and John are not suited, but the minx accepts his proposal nonetheless.
Meanwhile Daisy hatches a plan to attach Reuben to her beautiful, beleaguered Scots cousin, Elspeth. Little does she know that Elspeth is the focus of a more sinister plot that threatens Daisy too.
Will Reuben be able to thwart the forces surrounding Daisy before she is irretrievably tied to John? Will Daisy find the maturity to recognise her dilemma may be of her own making before it’s too late?
Buy links
Daisy’s Dilemma from Amazon UK * Kobo * Amazon ca * Amazon au * Amazon US * Amazon NZ
Social media links
An interview with Anne Stenhouse
When did you begin to write, and why?
Most writers will say they’ve always written or at the very least they’ve always been story tellers. I think that’s true of me. I remember having a lovely time at a school camp holding the entire dormitory in my fictional hands as I spun an oral tale about something or other. Can’t remember at this distance in time what it was. I do remember the power and pleasure of the silences and the sudden bursts of laughter or deep collective sighs. I’ve always enjoyed crafting the written word for speech and I suppose that’s why I enjoyed writing plays. I could say I think in conversations as I replay the day’s encounters and change them over and over. And now – novels like Daisy’s Dilemma in which I let rip with the dialogue.
I do think speech and the things we do while speaking create wonderfully dramatic scenes and I hope there are a few in all my books that take readers back whenever they see one of the titles come up. Of course it’s impossible to really know how they spoke in the early nineteenth century, but it’s good fun using appropriate vocabulary words and adding lots of ‘ma’ams’ and ‘your lordships’. I’m also not averse to a bit of inversion – of speech and grammatical patterns.
Why do you write in your chosen genre or genres?
I write ROMANCE because that’s the intense one-to-one relationship I’m most interested in. I may read detective fiction, but I don’t enjoy thrillers where the central relationship, hunter and hunted, is of necessity warped. This is not to say I don’t craft villains whose interest in either the Hero or Heroine might be unhealthy. I do and my villain, Sir Lucas Wellwood, in Mariah’s Marriage, remains one of my favourite created characters. Mariah’s Marriage was my debut novel and Lady Daisy of Daisy’s Dilemma, began life there.
So that might explain romance, why historical? Like many girls, I spent my teenage years reading copiously. In my case, I devoured Jean Plaidy, although today I can’t stand Tudor history and apart from the wonderful Bess of Hardwick, give them all a wide berth. Then came Jane. Austen, of course. Her work is penned at that moment when English became the modern language I recognise. The world she knew was changing so much and so fast. Women were poised to begin the fight for recognition as people, not adjuncts.
Georgette Heyer was next and I have a hardback collection. So, once you run out of the favourites – you need to roll up the sleeves and create your own.
Do you base any of your characters on real people?
Not consciously, no. However, I was approached by the clever fundraisers of St John’s Church in Edinburgh to donate the chance to be a named character in my next book. I agreed and two chances were put forward. So, look out for the Edinburgh neighbour and the Edinburgh family’s coachman in Daisy’s Dilemma.
Basing characters on real people who are alive is a no-no these days. I think in times past writers had a lot of fun, mostly harmless, picking up foibles and simply changing a letter or two in either the first or second name. I’m sure some of them also settled a few scores. Personally, I need to craft. I may recognise a person whose life really needs artistic recognition, but they won’t be interesting enough if you simple put their character traits down on paper. You need to dig a little, embroider a little (for farce, a lot) and make them not just interesting oddities, but compellingly interesting oddities.
What’s your favourite scene and why?
My favourite scene in Daisy’s Dilemma comes near the beginning of the novel and shortly after those Edinburgh relatives mentioned above arrive in the great London townhouse of Daisy’s brother, the Earl of Mellon. Daisy’s older cousin, Elspeth Howie arrives and her appearance, in dowdy tweed and acres of shawls, appals Daisy. But, she is bred to be a hostess and a hostess never makes her guest feel out of place or uncomfortable. Here’s a wee taster:
Daisy’s dilemma, Anne Stenhouse, editor Judy Roth
“Stephens, can someone assist Miss Howie.”
“Don’t worry about me, Lady Daisy,” the girl said, but relinquished a leather grip, two books, a stone hot water pig and a paper wrapper that looked to hold the remains of some bread, when the butler came closer. Daisy watched in fascinated horror while Stephens transferred the haul to a footman. She heard a step coming smartly along the garden passage behind her, Reuben, and saw the smile light Elspeth’s violet eyes when she recognised him.
“Why, it’s cousin Reuben.” Elspeth unwound a shawl from her shoulders and another from around her waist. She allowed a maid to catch them as they slid floor-wards. “I didn’t know you were staying, too.”
Reuben surged forward and enveloped Elspeth. Daisy, surprised by this show of intimacy, stepped aside. When had they met, she wondered. How had they come to know each other so well that a polite bow and curtsey was by-passed in favour of this warmth?
****
We’ll leave them there for the moment.
June 15, 2015
All for one and one for all – Tuesday Talk
Mari Christie offers us these thoughts on marketing in the Bazillion Book Marketplace.
As I work through a long list of marketing plan headings for my upcoming book release—Product, Place, Price, Promotion, et al—some things strike me again and again as similar to what I have been recommending to clients for 20 years: press kits, events, giveaways…
That said, in some ways, the direction has turned 180 degrees. For instance, given the pool of new books on Kindle, even separated by genre, for a new, unknown author, the traditional start of any marketing plan, “analyzing the competition” and “creating a competitive advantage,” is ludicrous. (“I’d like to take market share from all 1,678,423 authors ahead of me on the Amazon Rankings…”)
Further, Big Publishing no longer provides significant marketing budgets for new authors, in some cases requiring we pay not only for trips to conferences, books for signings, etc., but also for simple editing and proofreading, because they no longer want to pay salaries for in-house editors. Make no mistake, any part of the process they can force from our pockets, they will—with no compunction.
A quick scan of the television lineup any night of the week should tell us that when this model places us in competition with each other, it makes money for the media conglomerates that run American entertainment, including books. (Like in reality TV, one person will win a quarter-million-dollar prize and everyone else goes home with nothing. Amazon, however, like a television network, brings in money no matter how many books we sell.)
To counteract this corporate manipulation:
Eliminate the idea of competition.
One can differentiate a book to some extent with good cover design, solid proofreading, smart keywords, price promotions, and (if a buyer gets so far as the words) good writing, but your good writing means nothing anymore until it generates 4- and 5-star reviews in the hundreds. Even then, regular sales are a long shot even professionals can’t guarantee for well-known authors, much less an indie writer who has nothing but the fortitude to finish writing a book and the temerity to publish it.
In place of the traditional American sales model, let us all agree now that we aren’t in competition with each other, and we are (almost) all in the same leaky boat. Loyal readers in your genre will read lots of authors’ books in a lifetime. Yours might or might not be one. Don’t begrudge success where any of us find it and support each other’s efforts.
Seek out and connect with other authors for critique, sharing of information or research, or just for moral support. Join online and real-time groups, lists, and trade associations created for authors in general, your genre in particular. These groups exist all over the internet and in every city and state (or whatever regional boundaries exist in other parts of the world).
In real-life and online trade groups and on indie author promotional sites, contribute, volunteer, and become part of the community. Make friends online and they will be more likely to help you promote yourself. (Social media best practice, by all accounts, and a well-known marketing strategy since the dawn of the capitalist system. Besides, how rude—and ineffective—is it to continually post promos to groups that have no vested interest in you?)
Give advice when you can, and don’t be stingy with your “Lessons Learned.” We all started somewhere. (To be clear, only give advice about things for which you are qualified.)
Go to other indie authors for services when you can—book publishing and otherwise—and barter if you are so inclined. (Personally, if I could find another experienced professional editor to trade manuscript services, I would be over the moon.)
Collaborate.
Marketing alone is as dangerous as “groupthink,” plus, it is more expensive, more time-consuming, and more depressing when it isn’t going well. Instead of “going it alone,” share marketing concepts and stay engaged with other authors, especially in your genre. Among relatively unknown entities, more new customers will be reached by co-promotion (e.g. multiple authors throwing a communal launch party) and/or cross-promotion (e.g. two authors posting contests on each other’s blogs to win copies of both books).
As matters of regular marketing practice, consider these:
Be each other’s first readers and reviewers. Pay it forward by leaving reviews.
On social media, Like/Follow/Pin/Comment/Share each other’s work. (I am now in the habit of Liking any author page that comes across my Facebook news feed, about 10 a day, and have created a Pinterest board titled, “Other Authors’ Books.”)
Support reviewer blogs and social media, and Like, Comment on, Retweet, and Share reviews, announcements, giveaways, blog posts, etc. (Share this blog post! :-))
Support independent indie author promo sites like Microcerpt, KindleMojo, or AuthorShout, as well as the obvious, well-funded players in the market, like Amazon or Goodreads.
Coordinate release dates, social media “parties,” even promo sale dates, to maximize potential audience. (November 26, come to a Facebook party for my new release, Royal Regard, and at least two others in the romance genre!)
Some of these practices may seem counter-intuitive, given how steeped most of us are in the idea of zero-sum marketing, but the sales world has changed (don’t I know it!). We can no longer rely on publishers to promote us, and even if we are unprepared for the new marketing process, it is prepared to make money from—and, if we play our cards right, for—us.
Keep your sales in your own pocket. Keep your marketing under your own control. Keep the indie marketplace one that acts as a cohesive whole, rather than allowing the traditional model to pick off one of us after the other until only one person has the quarter-million-dollar prize.
June 13, 2015
Heather Boyd and An Improper Proposal
I’m delighted to welcome Heather Boyd to the blog. Heather has a new release out: Improper Proposal, book 6 in her Dangerous Rogues series. Read on to find out more about Heather, for an extract, and for links to the new book.
1. When did you begin to write, and why?
I began writing in 2008. It was either write or go mad from the stories swirling around in my head. I had owned a bookshop, which meant I had access to all kinds of amazing works. When that ended, I had way too much time on my hands. Since my imagination just wouldn’t stay quiet I wrote a story… and it was terrible. Everyone in it had to have a scene in their point of view (something not recommended). I listened to advice, learned my craft until I thought I was ready. Like most authors, there were rejections. I’m not big on quitting so I let the bad roll off my back and kept going. And I’m still learning. Perseverance and a thick hide is a good trait for an author to have.
2. Why do you write in your chosen genre or genres?
Before I was a writer, I read in a lot of genres. Fantasy and science fiction stories were essential to surviving my 4 hour daily train commute to the paying job. Reading made the miles blur nicely. But it wasn’t until I worked in the bookshop that I found romance. Regency romance novels were the first books that made me laugh out loud. Not something I usually do around other people. Once I’d stripped the store of its best, I knew that’s where I had to focus my writing energy. There is nothing quite like a regency for escapism, strange medical practices, and heroines deserving a wonderful hero. It’s loads of fun to write around the rules of what was considered proper in the early nineteenth century and see how far you can bend them.
3. Do you base any of your characters on real people?
My usual answer is to say not directly. Sometimes I’ll be inspired by something I see or hear around me and that might go in with a twist. Everyday life inspires so many creative endeavors. My kids wrestling inspired a funny/sad scene in my most recent book, An Improper Proposal, but I applied it to older pair of men.
4. Who is your favourite character in the book you’re showing us today?
I always love the men. Lord Louth, the hero of An Improper Proposal, has been running in and out of my other stories for quite a number of years as a best friend character. He’s been fun and it was wonderful to finally work on his love life and give him his own happy ever after. Of course, the man did want to be difficult about my matchmaking efforts but I had my way with him in the end.
5. What’s your favourite scene and why?
In An Improper Proposal, Iris Hedley asks for training as a mistress. Lord Louth disagrees with her chosen career, but he’s not offering her a better life with him. In fact, thanks to events around his daughter’s birth (she’s illegitimate) he’s never getting married. They’d already discussed the pros and cons of her decision to become a mistress to a limited extent, and then proof of the pitfalls of a scandalous life comes rolling straight at him in a baby carriage (pushed by Mrs. Hughes). It was awkward for him but revealed the one thing Iris longed for most—children and a family of her own.
An extract from An Improper Proposal
Martin leaned toward her ear and pitched his voice low, eager to change the topic of conversation. “Have you thought what you would do if you became pregnant to a protector?”
“I would keep the child,” Iris said immediately. Her brow furrowed and she glanced over her shoulder toward Mrs. Hughes’s retreating back. “I’ve no idea if it’s the done thing or not but that is my answer.”
“You would allow your child to suffer an irregular birth?”
She licked her lips. “I should not like to see them suffer of course, but that is likely what will happen, isn’t it?”
“Very true, and yet there are some gentlemen who would do the right thing.” Martin would have married Vivian if he’d been given the choice. “What if your protector were to propose marriage to give the child his name? Could you marry the man if you did not love him?”
“Many women do marry for a title rather than affection.” A tiny smile twisted her lips. “I would have to consider the matter at that time, of course.”
He stopped. “You would hesitate to live a respectable life?”
“Well, I cannot say with any certainty what I would do at this moment. I’ve not even begun to be a mistress.” She smiled cheekily. “Perhaps he picks his toes at the dinner table and drinks custard with his pork chops.”
After that point, the conversation goes further downhill. LOL Thanks for having me. xx
About Heather Boyd: Bestselling author Heather Boyd writes sizzling regency historical romance that skirt the boundaries of propriety to keep readers enthralled until the wee hours of the morning. She has published over twenty novels and shorter works.
Connect with Heather: Website | Twitter | Facebook Page | Mailing list
An Improper Proposal
Distinguished Rogues, book 6
Regency Historical Romance
Release date: June 9, 2015
About the book: In order escape a devil’s bargain penniless spinster Iris Hedley requires private lessons in seduction to become a wealthy man’s mistress. No stranger to scandal or bad choices, Lord Louth is convinced Iris is headed for heartbreak and sets out to prove surrendering to wicked pleasure can have unwanted consequences.
Purchase
Amazon | iBooks | Kobo | Nook | Add to Goodreads
June 12, 2015
Quick update on writing progress
I am bowling along, happy as a lark, and then… life.
Encouraging Prudence is languishing at the moment. The plot elves deserted me along with the tooth the dentist pulled last Monday. Poor Prue, who I left sleeping in David’s bed way back in April, still hasn’t woken up to see the note David left her. But I’ve printed the 43,000 words I have so far, and this weekend I’m going back to the beginning to get reaquainted with the story.
Gingerbread Bride, one of the two books I abandoned Prue for, is my novella for the Bluestocking Belle‘s Christmas anthology. I had trouble finding the ending, but I made it on the fourth try, and it is now with two of my Belle colleagues, who are beta reading it.
I have novellas from two of them for the same anthology. I’ve read them once, and am looking forward to reading them again this weekend, and sending my colleagues my comments.
The other book that nudged its way to the top of the queue is A Baron for Becky, which I’m releasing in August. It’s due to the proofreader on 19 June, and I’ve heard back from more than half the beta readers and made the tweaks they’ve suggested, so I’ll meet that deadline easily. I’m leaving it alone this weekend.
I’m planning a quiet weekend to let the jaw finish healing, but next week I’ll have Becky out the door and can focus on Prue. I’ve been asked to launch her novel at BookTown in Featherston in October: my first ever in-person book launch. Which means the first draft needs to be finished by the end of July so I have time for all the editing and book production work. More news about BookTown to come!
June 10, 2015
The Raven’s Lady – the villains foiled, our hero rewarded
Part 4 of The Raven’s Lady, the short story I wrote as a prize for Crystal Cox.
The planning session devolved into an argument over a different topic; first Felix against Joselyn, and then—when Joselyn convinced the others of the sense of what she said—Felix against the officers and part-time smugglers alike.
Felix did not want Joselyn taking her usual place down on the beach at the head of her women. Indeed, if Felix had his way, all of the women would be replaced with his trained soldiers.
Joselyn and her helpers agreed that the soldiers would form the main part of the workforce on the beach, disguised in skirts and with concealing shawls to keep their masculine features from giving away the ambush. But, Joselyn insisted, she needed to be there, head uncovered and face seen, so that the villains would believe they had her trapped. And her supporters insisted on joining her.
She was right. Felix knew she was right. He hated placing her in danger, but she was essential to the success of the plan.
Reluctantly, he had to agree.
By the time Cyril returned from his errand, all was prepared. Tonight, they would trap the Black Fox.
Cyril clearly expected an outcome much more to his liking. He could hardly contain his glee when both Joselyn and Felix claimed tiredness early in the evening and retired to bed. And they had to hastily conceal themselves behind trees when he came crashing noisily down the path towards the clifftops, muttering to himself about tonight being the last night.
Reaching the clifftops themselves, they watched him hurry away down the path towards the village.
“I don’t want you going down there, Josalyn,” Felix told her. He wasn’t going to stop her. She had as much at stake as he—more, given her love for these people. But he wanted her to know he was reluctant.
Had she been this frightened for him, knowing he had gone to war? If so, he’d have to spend the next fifty years making up for his unthinking cruelty in staying away so long. He smiled at the thought of that, and she smiled back.
“I will be careful. And if the smugglers come this way, you will be in more danger than I.”
In the event, the Black Fox split his forces, and attacked from the sea as well as the cliff top. For a few minutes, Felix was too busy to worry about Joselyn, but once the thugs on the cliff top were subdued, Cyril among them, he hurried down the path to the beach, where clumps of people wrestled in the moonlight.
As he reached the sand, a sudden loud shout stopped him in his tracks. “I have the woman, and I’ll kill her if you try to stop me.”
It was the Black Fox, his arm around Joselyn’s neck, brandishing a pistol in his other hand. He was backing towards the rowboat he had arrived in, two of his henchmen flanking him on either side.
“Not another step!” the Fox shrieked at the soldiers following him. The rest of his crew were gone, subdued by the soldiers or Joselyn’s women. But no one dared approach these three!
Felix’s heart was in his throat, blocking his breath and pounding like the French cannon at Waterloo. He couldn’t attack without risking Joselyn, but if he didn’t attack, they’d take her with them to who knew what horrid fate.
At that moment, there was a loud caw. Immediately, and so fast that Felix couldn’t afterward untangle the order, a large black feathery missile hurled itself into the Black Fox’s face, Joselyn gave a twist and vicious upward punch into a portion of the Fox’s anatomy that made Felix wince, two shots rang out, and the two henchmen fell.
Within moments, it was all over, the smugglers captured and the raven marching up and down the beach cackling his satisfaction at his timely intervention.
Felix, with difficulty. restrained himself from wrapping Joselyn in his arms in front of half his tenants and all his soldiers. He’d never been so frightened in all his life. Thank God she was safe!
The Black Fox was hauled off in custody, along with his surviving men and Cyril, his co-conspirator. They would face the magistrate on the morrow.
Joselyn and Felix walked home together through the dawn. The raven had flown off about his own affairs, and the housekeeper had gone on ahead, arm in arm with the farmer’s wife.
“Joselyn,” Felix said, “I have explanations to make, and excuses. I let everyone think I was dead because that was the best way I could serve in the war against Napoleon, but I didn’t think about how it would affect you. Dare I hope that you will forgive me? I will spend a lifetime making amends if you will permit.”
Joselyn was silent for a long time. He was wrong then. He had hoped she was beginning to like the adult him, at least a little. Eventually, she spoke.
“You seem very certain that we would suit,” she stated.
“I know we would suit,” he said. “Certainly you suit me. I did not think there was a woman in the world who so combined courage, intelligence and spirit with beauty and kindness. I wish for a chance to convince you I can make you happy. May I court you, Joselyn?”
She was silent again, but a quality in the silence gave him hope, and he waited patiently.
“I did not know there was a man in the world who valued spirit and intelligence in a woman. Certainly I have not before met a man who would allow me to lead my troops into battle, even though he wished to protect me.”
“I didn’t want you to go,” Felix admitted.
“But you respected me enough to agree,” she said.
She was silent again.
“I daresay, now that my last surviving relative is dead, my trustees will find me somewhere else to live,” she said after a while. “I cannot, of course, stay here as a unmarried woman in the house of a bachelor.”
That was true, Felix supposed, his heart sinking. He hadn’t thought of that. Would she leave him, then?
“I never knew… Felix, you really do want me, don’t you? Not just my money?”
“Joselyn, I’ve not taken my officer’s pay in eight years, and it has all been soundly invested along with my prizes. Believe me, you are the treasure I want, not your money.” He moved to take her back into his arms, but Joselyn stopped him with her hand.
“Then I wonder,” she looked down shyly, “if you would consider marrying me first, Felix, and courting me after?”
So it was that Joselyn Bellingham and Felix Maddox were wed as soon as the bans could be called. And if there were some who questioned the sudden change in Viscounts, and wondered at the reappearance of one who had been thought dead these six years the older servants and villagers soon put them right. And if some said the bride should not have lived in the groom’s house that last fortnight, Viscountess Maddox’s supporters told them to hush their mouths. And if some raised their eyebrows when the bride was escorted down the aisle by a large raven, Viscount Maddox didn’t care a jot. After all, he said, the raven had found him his bride and saved him his bride, and that was all there was to that.
June 9, 2015
Building a road to the better mousetrap – part 1 (a Tuesday Talk)
Post 3 in the series Mari Christie and I are writing on marketing in a bazillion book marketplace.
In the bazillion book marketplace…So you’ve written a book. You’ve done all the right things. You’ve learned your craft. The book has been edited, copyedited, proofread. It has a marvellous cover.
Now all you have to do is stick it up on Amazon, and wait to grow rich?
Right?
If only it were that easy.
…those who fail to plan, plan to fail
You need a good book. You need persistence. You need a healthy dose of luck. Above all, you need a plan.
In this post (and the next) in the Bazillion Book Marketplace series, Mari and I are going to talk about what needs to be in a marketing plan for a book. (You might also want a marketing plan for Brand You, but that’s another post.)
To write a plan, you need to know who you want to sell to, what they want to buy, how much they’re prepared to pay, and where they expect to find it. (In marketing parlance, the 4 Ps–Product, Place, Price, and Promotion.)
This week’s post looks at your reader, your book, and your price. Next week, we’ll talk about where books are sold, where they are promoted, and what marketing materials you might need.
Know your reader
Your marketing plan should start with your reader. Can you describe your typical reader? Do you know how old they are? What sort of education they have? What they do when they’re not reading? What other genres they read?
Do you know what they like about the kind of book you write? What they don’t like? What will make them keep reading and what will cause them to shut the book and hurl it across the room?
What are their hobbies, interests, passions?
Where can you meet them (online or in person or both)?
The better you can describe your typical readers, the better you can put yourself (and your book) in front of them.
Know your book
No one knows your book better than you do, right? But can you capture the essence of your book in a couple of compelling sentences that grab that typical reader by the imagination and drag them to the bookstore?
In your marketing plan, describe what about your book will appeal to your reader, then write your compelling description–your story’s tagline (some call it a logline).
Know your price
What do your readers think they should pay for a book like yours? What are they prepared to pay? Do some research. Also think about the best price points to give you a good return. Pricing ebooks is a contentious topic, and a post I wrote on this several weeks ago has been the most viewed and commented on more than any I’ve written since I started this blog.
Should you give one or more of your books away free (permanently or for a short period)? Should you put the book on a special price for a limited time? Will pricing low help you sell more books, or will it make them less valued? How does your genre affect your price? (For instance, novels are most often seen in the $2.99 – 3.99 price range, but self-help averages about $7.99.)
Next steps
Knowing who you want to sell to, what they want to buy, and how much they will spend is a good start. In our next post, we’ll talk about putting that knowledge to good use when deciding where and how to promote your book.
June 8, 2015
Kali counsels Becky – part 2 of 2
Continued from Kali counsels Becky – part 1 of 2
It had been some years since Kali Matai, The Black Goddess, met Mrs. Rose Darling, known as The Rose of Frampton, and it was a meeting neither wished to remember, both having been at the mercy of protectors with no morals and less conscience. During that earlier meeting, Kali had taken it upon herself to protect the sweet, young girl from the worst of the abuses at the gentlemen’s party. Kali, after all, knew better than any woman in London how to feel nothing.
When they came upon each other at Mrs. Marlowe’s Book Emporium, however, not only their prior encounter bound them, but also a mutual understanding of the way the world treats women of easy virtue—as though they have no virtues at all. Now, in an effort to help the girl again, Kali has invited her to tea to discuss a topic of great import. Or so Mrs Darling’s note had said.
(To read the first half of their conversation, go to part 1 of 2.)
***
Lady with Swarbat by Raja Ravi Varma
“Lord Aldridge returns to me several times each week. And…” Becky colors, “he seems to need very little sleep.” Choking on the words, she finally spits out, “Truth be told, Miss Shaheen, I fear the pox.”
Kali sits back. At least the girl was not such a fool as she appeared at first glance. Falling in love with the man was forgivable—somewhat. It had even happened to Kali once. But allowing herself to be polluted by his excesses? That was a much more serious kind of folly.
“Forgive me if I offend,” Becky stammers, “but I have heard that ladies of the Orient know remedies, preventatives…”
“You are right to be concerned,” Kali says in measured tones. “On this subject, however, I have no more knowledge than any other woman well-versed in our trade. Tell me, does he wash the part of himself that is of concern? Wash it well, I mean, with strong soap?”
Becky nodded, hiding her eyes behind her lashes and allowing the hair falling across her forehead to drop like a curtain to hide her face. “Yes. He is very thorough. He… Never mind… He… Yes.”
“Good. You can, of course, ensure such cleanliness by offering to attend him in his baths. He will never decline, and it will provide you some measure of control.”
“That… I already… He rather likes me to…” Becky was scarlet to her ears
Young lady in white hat by Jean Baptiste Greuze
Kali smiled and patted her hand. “Of course he does. As I have said, men are simple creatures. Does he use sheaths when you have relations? As a matter of course? With all of the women with whom he—?” She stops short, not wanting to hurt the poor, wounded bird any more than her protector already had.
Becky gathers her dignity. “He gives me to believe that he always wears a cundum. He is not unaware of the dangers, and he wishes no mo—er, no children out of wedlock.”
“If he is consistent with you, his regular mistress, you can guess that he does with the others.” She frowns. “But do not forget that a man will say anything to lie with a woman he desires.” Sighing, she follows with, “Of course, you cannot insist. As you say, he owns the lease on your body. There are risks… to this way of life. This is one… your beautiful daughter is another.”
Kali had met Sarah briefly on one occasion, which reminded her of her own loss. Nevertheless, the girl was sweet and charming and a bright spot in her mother’s otherwise sad life.
Becky shuddered. “Sarah is only eight, Miss Shaheen. I worry about her living in the house where I… where I sell myself. And I am determined to escape this life with enough money to give her more options.”
“Many would send her away,” Kali suggests, in a tentative manner. “To school, perhaps? To a friend or family in the country?”
“I have no family—I have no friends. I fear to send her to strangers. Of course, I am also afraid to keep her with me. You will think me silly to be so uncertain, but she is the one treasure of my life, and I would do anything for her. But the best thing? I do not know.”
“I do not think you foolish, and you have a friend in me. As such, I must tell you: you have fewer choices than one might hope. You must make your own luck and control your own future, my dear. You must subtly suggest Lord Aldridge give you jewels and gold and silver ornaments, for emeralds and rubies may be sold to keep you, no matter his inclination. Should he be generous enough, you may give Sarah and yourself any life you choose.” Eyes narrowed, lips thinned, she continues, “You do not protect yourself, Miss Winstanley. This is a mistake of the most immense proportions. Much more concern than the pox.
“You allow yourself to be defined by the gentleman in your life, most of whom do not have your interests in mind. Lord Aldridge is better than some, but he is inconstant, and will leave you in the street when he tires of you. You are a strong woman—” She holds up one finger. “No, do not think to argue that point when you have survived so much. You have a mind and heart worth cultivating, and your protectors will not do so. So then, you must do it yourself. That, my dear, is the legacy for your daughter. That is what you will give her and why you will keep her safe with you.”
Becky opened her mouth, thought again about what she wanted to say, and then closed it again. After a moment, she looked up from the glass she had been examining intently.
“You are right. You are right, Miss Shaheen. He has purchased the use of my body, but his needs do not define me. Indeed,” Kali could see her intent thoughts crossing her face, “it is not my body that keeps him visiting. He has never before signed a two-year contract. Did you know that? His… a relative of his told me.
“And he comes back to me from his other women. I have something that he needs. If I can work out what that is, Miss Shaheen, then I can… I can negotiate… Jewelry, yes. A separate house and a governess for my daughter, so she be can safe and… uncorrupted. And another two-year term. I have but a year left of this one. Three more years of using his purse as he uses my body will do quite nicely. Yes. Those requisites will serve. They will serve very well.”
“All of those, my friend,” Kali laughs, “are as simple as the man himself. I will call for tea, and we shall begin today.”
###
Meet Kali and read her story in La Déesse Noire: The Black Goddess, to be released June 10, available for pre-order now.
Sired by a British peer, born of a paramour to Indian royalty, Kali Matai has been destined from birth to enthrall England’s most powerful noblemen—though she hadn’t counted on becoming their pawn. Finding herself under the control of ruthless men, who will not be moved by her legendary allure, she has no choice but to use her beauty toward their malicious and clandestine ends.
When those she holds most dear are placed in peril by backroom political dealings, she enlists some of the most formidable lords in England to thwart her enemies. But even with the help of the prominent gentlemen she has captivated, securing Kali’s freedom, her family, and the man she loves, will require her protectors stop at nothing to fulfill her desires.
Pre-order now for June 10 delivery:
Amazon
Amazon UK
iTunes
Barnes and Noble
Kobo
To connect with Mariana Gabrielle:
www.MarianaGabrielle.com
Facebook
Twitter
Pinterest
Blog
Goodreads
Amazon Author page
Meet Becky and Lord Aldridge in A Baron for Becky, to be released August 5, available for pre-order now.
Becky is the envy of the courtesans of the demi-monde – the indulged mistress of the wealthy and charismatic Marquis of Aldridge. But she dreams of a normal life; one in which her daughter can have a future that does not depend on beauty, sex, and the whims of a man.
Finding herself with child, she hesitates to tell Aldridge. Will he cast her off, send her away, or keep her and condemn another child to this uncertain shadow world?
The devil-may-care face Hugh shows to the world hides a desperate sorrow; a sorrow he tries to drown with drink and riotous living. His years at war haunt him, but even more, he doesn’t want to think about the illness that robbed him of the ability to father a son. When he dies, his barony will die with him. His title will fall into abeyance, and his estate will be scooped up by the Crown.
When Aldridge surprises them both with a daring proposition, they do not expect love to be part of the bargain.
Pre-order now for August 5 delivery:
Amazon
June 7, 2015
Kali counsels Becky – part 1 of 2
Lady with Swarbat by Raja Ravi Varma
It had been some years since Kali Matai, The Black Goddess, met Mrs Rose Darling, known as The Rose of Frampton, and it was a meeting neither wished to remember, both having been at the mercy of protectors with no morals and less conscience. During that earlier meeting, Kali had taken it upon herself to protect the sweet, young girl from the worst of the abuses at the gentlemen’s party. Kali, after all, knew better than any woman in London how to feel nothing.
When they came upon each other at Mrs Marlowe’s Book Emporium, however, not only their prior encounter bound them, but also a mutual understanding of the way the world treats women of easy virtue—as though they have no virtues at all. Now, in an effort to help the girl again, Kali has invited her to tea to discuss a topic of great import. Or so Mrs Darling’s note had said.
***
“I can offer you tea, Mrs Darling,” Kali said, “Or something more… fortifying. Palm wine or feni or sherry. I only keep brandy in my protectors’ homes.”
“May I try feni?” Becky says. She likes trying new things, and fortifying is exactly what she needs. “And if you would not mind, Miss Matai, My true name is not Mrs. Darling. I am not Rose. And I am not a… That was a name given me by a… by someone who wished to increase my… price. My real name is Winstanley, Miss Becky Winstanley.”
Kali pours out the coconut liqueur into crystal glasses and passes one across the table. “Ah, very much like Miss Matai and La Déesse Noire, then. I would be grateful if we might use our real names. I am Kali Shaheen, though I beg you not make it known outside these rooms.”
“Kali Shaheen. Miss Shaheen. It is a lovely name.”
Young woman in a white hat by Jean Baptiste Greuze
“One I have not heard in a good many years, Miss Winstanley.” Kali began, “Your note spoke of some trouble you wish to share?” Some way in which I can help?”
Becky takes a cautious sip, and then another, more appreciative, one. “It is not so much that I need help. More that I would appreciate someone to listen; someone who, perhaps, might… understand how complicated it is.”
Kali chuckles. “If it is about a man, my dear, there is nothing simpler.”
Becky smiles in return, and then turns wistful. “The man is simple enough, Kali, that is true. If his appetites are satisfied and his ego is stroked, he is happy. I am the complicated one.”
“Ah,” Kali sighs, taking another delicate sip of her feni. “Yes, women are certainly complicated, are we not? Have you some concern about Lord Aldridge?”
Her primary concern, Kali thinks, should be seeing the man does not leave her with the French pox. Rare, indeed, are gentlemen with such copious appetites, and no lightskirt in London holds any illusions about the Merry Marquis—with the possible exception of the one before her.
Kali has never dallied with him, though not from lack of trying on his part or amused interest on hers. She merely chooses to remain true to her protectors, for reasons she cannot disclose. If ever she might wish an affair merely for the enjoyment of it, however, Lord Aldridge would be near the top of the list.
“When you and I first met,” Becky begins softly, “you rightly deduced the protector I had then was not kind. You will understand, I think, what it means when I say that he was among the best of all the men by whom I have been kept.”
Kali nods. Every mistress understands all too well.
“Lord Aldridge saved me—in every sense—and more important, saved my little daughter.” Kali’s smile becomes just a bit brittle at the mention of the little girl. “Not just from more of the same, but from worse. I will always be grateful to him.”
Even a heartless rogue like Aldridge, Kali reflects, might find himself an accidental hero on occasion.
“He is always polite. He always ensures my pleasure. He is kind to my little girl. He is generous with his gifts and with his praise. He is kind, Miss Shaheen. It has been a heady experience for a girl like me.”
Smiling with a certain softness about her eyes and mouth, glad this sweet girl has had some small measure of kindness, even if at the hands of a man like Aldridge, Kali urges, “Go on.”
“It has been nine months since we signed a contract. For six months, he barely let me leave his side. You will think me foolish, but I imagined… I knew he would not marry me. Indeed, so I told his… certain members of his family. But I thought we were in love. Foolish.”
Kali raises a brow and the softness in her eyes vanishes. “Quite.” Her hand trembles just slightly as she finishes her drink and pours another, also offering it to her guest. When Becky holds out her glass, Kali pours a short ration, unsure whether the girl is accustomed to strong spirits.
Setting down the bottle, she straightens in her chair, as rigid as if she were part of her corset, not just wearing it. But for sipping the feni, her jaw is clenched tight, and her fingernails dig deeply into the palm of her hand. Still, outwardly, she is calm as an iced-over pond.
Becky’s tone is bleak. “I forgot what you told me when we met before. I forgot he is my buyer, not my lover. Not my friend. I knew it, but I forgot.” At Kali’s frown, she hastens to explain, “He did not encourage me, Miss Shaheen. It was my own doing. He did not speak of love. He did not talk of permanence. But he was kind. And I have known so little kindness.”
Kali uncurls her rigid fingers from the arm of her chair and grasps Becky’s hand. “It is an easy thing to forget when they so believe they wish to be our friends.” She sets her glass aside, taking Becky’s chilly fingers between the palms of her hands. “Do you expect he will set you aside?”
At Becky’s stricken look, Kali asks gently, “Have you savings to keep you? He has given you the deed to the house, has he not?”
Watching the crash of a fallen woman was never an easy thing, especially for those who might just as easily follow her rapid descent.
“The house and my income are mine to keep if I finish the two years, or if he chooses to end the contract early. I lose them only if I leave.” She examines her empty glass, as if looking for words within it. “Lord Aldridge’s cousin, Lord Chirbury, suggested the clause.”
“He is a wise man, then, and you are fortunate to have received his counsel.” Lord Chirbury clearly knew his cousin almost as well as the entirety of the demimonde did. “Do you not have a solicitor? A woman alone must have her own solicitor, Miss Winstanley.”
“A solicitor? A solicitor could not help me with my problem, Miss Shaheen.”
“You are not considering… Surely not.” Kali’s brows drew together. “Think, Miss Winstanley. Do not feel.”
“Considering what?” Becky’s brows drew together.
If the girl truly hadn’t thought of leaving the man with whom she had so unwisely fallen in love, Kali could not forgive herself if she were the one to suggest it. “Never you mind, sweetling.” She patted Becky’s hand. “Tell me what it is I can do to help.”
“Aldridge owns my body,” Becky says, baldly. “Or perhaps it would be truer to say he holds the lease. I need it returned to me in good condition at the end of the contract. Not for my sake. For my daughter.”
“I cannot believe,” Kali says slowly, “with what I know of Lord Aldridge, that you are concerned about maltreatment.”
Becky shakes her head.
“So, rather, you worry about… disease?” She sat back. “Or is it only your heart for which you fear?”
“Aldridge returned my heart to me when he began swiving other women and discussing it with me. It is bruised, I cannot deny, but he is a man of prodigious appetite who enjoys variety. Yet he returns to me several times each week. And…” Becky colors, “he seems to need very little sleep.” Choking on the words, she finally spits out, “Truth be told, Miss Shaheen, I fear the pox.”
(To read the rest of their conversation, come back tomorrow.)
###
Meet Kali and read her story in La Déesse Noire: The Black Goddess, to be released June 10, available for pre-order now.
Sired by a British peer, born of a paramour to Indian royalty, Kali Matai has been destined from birth to enthrall England’s most powerful noblemen—though she hadn’t counted on becoming their pawn. Finding herself under the control of ruthless men, who will not be moved by her legendary allure, she has no choice but to use her beauty toward their malicious and clandestine ends.
When those she holds most dear are placed in peril by backroom political dealings, she enlists some of the most formidable lords in England to thwart her enemies. But even with the help of the prominent gentlemen she has captivated, securing Kali’s freedom, her family, and the man she loves, will require her protectors stop at nothing to fulfill her desires.
Pre-order now for June 10 delivery:
Amazon
Amazon UK
iTunes
Barnes and Noble
Kobo
To connect with Mariana Gabrielle:
www.MarianaGabrielle.com
Facebook
Twitter
Pinterest
Blog
Goodreads
Amazon Author page
Meet Becky and Lord Aldridge in A Baron for Becky, to be released August 5, available for pre-order now.
Becky is the envy of the courtesans of the demi-monde – the indulged mistress of the wealthy and charismatic Marquis of Aldridge. But she dreams of a normal life; one in which her daughter can have a future that does not depend on beauty, sex, and the whims of a man.
Finding herself with child, she hesitates to tell Aldridge. Will he cast her off, send her away, or keep her and condemn another child to this uncertain shadow world?
The devil-may-care face Hugh shows to the world hides a desperate sorrow; a sorrow he tries to drown with drink and riotous living. His years at war haunt him, but even more, he doesn’t want to think about the illness that robbed him of the ability to father a son. When he dies, his barony will die with him. His title will fall into abeyance, and his estate will be scooped up by the Crown.
When Aldridge surprises them both with a daring proposition, they do not expect love to be part of the bargain.
Pre-order now for August 5 delivery:
Amazon
June 4, 2015
The Raven’s Lady – Felix declares himself
Part 3 of The Raven’s Lady, the short story I wrote as a prize for Crystal Cox.
When Felix got back to the house, he could not find Miss Bellingham. However, he found the servant, Betsy.
“Tell Miss Bellingham, please, that I heard her cousin Cyril and the Black Fox plotting against her, and I need to see her now. I’ll wait in the library.”
After a shocked moment, Betsy hurried upstairs, and a few minutes later, Miss Bellingham entered the room.
She’d clearly been interrupted before she could complete her change. She’d put on a dress, but her hair was caught back in a long plait that brushed her rump as she walked. Betsy came in at her shoulder, and their glares were identical.
“Mr Matthews? What’s this about my cousin?”
“Not Matthews,” Felix told her. “My name isn’t Matthews. I was sent here to investigate the Black Fox for the Crown. I followed you last night, and I saw you bringing in your cargo.”
Now the women had identical looks of alarm.
“It is not what you think,” Miss Bellingham said. “I am not the Black Fox. And the women; they were just following my orders. I am the leader. Arrest me. Let them go.”
“No, Miss,” Betsy objected. “We all agreed. We’re all in this.”
“None of you are in this,” Felix said. “I’m not after you. I want the Black Fox. In any case, Miss Bellingham, I don’t wish to arrest an old friend, and I certainly don’t intend to arrest the wives and daughters of my tenants.”
Betsy was bewildered, but Miss Bellingham was examining him with narrowed eyes. “You are dead,” she told him.
“No,” he said.
She was shaking her head. “We were told you were dead.”
Joselyn still got a white pinched look around her lips when she was angry, Felix noted, and two bright spots of colour on her cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” he said, not sure what he was apologising for.
“You should be. I cried. I wore black for a year. Why are you not dead, Felix?” And then she was in his arms, punching his shoulder and fighting back tears. “I am so glad you are not dead.”
He tightened his arms around her, but Betsy cleared her throat, and Miss Bellingham pushed away.
“You be Viscount Maddox, seemingly?” Betsy asked. “Come to take yer own, is it?”
“After we catch the Black Fox and Cousin Cyril, yes,” Felix said. He was finding it hard to focus on the job ahead of them, given how wonderfully Miss Bellingham filled his arms and how empty they felt without her. The idea of redeeming his boyhood promise was growing more and more appealing.
“Where have you been? Why have you waited so long to come home?” That was his Jocelyn; pestering him with questions.
“I will answer every question you have,” he told her. “But we don’t have time today. Today, we have to decide what to do with your enemies.”
Quickly, he told the two women what he’d overheard. Then he had to repeat it for most of the rest of the household. Not the valet or the butler who, Joselyn said, were from London, and Cyril’s men through and through. The local people, she said, could be trusted.
When Felix had finished his story, the servants were of a single mind.
“You can’t go, then, Miss,” said Betsy. “We’ll have to let the Black Fox have the cargo.”
“We can’t risk you, Miss,” one of the other servants said, and the others murmured their approval.
Joselyn turned to Felix. “I suppose they are right. But I hate letting Cyril and the Black Fox win.”
“I might be able to help there,” Felix said. “What if we went ahead with the move, as planned, but set an ambush for the Black Fox and our delightful cousin?”
They couldn’t settle their plans immediately. Joselyn would need to bring in the farmer’s wives who, with Betsy the housekeeper, were her chief lieutenants. And Felix needed the officers of the troops who awaited his orders in the nearby town.
“I’ll send messengers,” Jocelyn said.
“We can’t risk Cyril finding out,” Felix warned. “Is there somewhere else we can meet?”
Joselyn and her supporters fixed him with identical looks of exasperation. “We have a place,” Joselyn said patiently. “I’ll give your officers the direction.”
The servants went to carry out Joselyn’s orders, but Felix lingered, and so did Joselyn. Betsy, the last to leave, looked at her mistress uncertainly.
“Go, Betsy,” Joselyn told her. “I’ll just have a word with Lord Maddox and be along shortly.”
But when they were alone, she was silent. Was she shy, all of a sudden, his brave Joselyn?
On the cliff-top, she had referred to the last time they’d seen one another; that long-ago morning when his mother had carried him off to the other end of England. Should he start there?
“Joselyn,” he said. “I came back to redeem my promise.”
Joselyn laughed, her mouth turned up in a smile, but something unreadable in her eyes. “No, you did not, Felix. You came back to catch the Black Fox.” And then, suddenly sober, “After eight years of silence, Felix. Eight years!”
All his excellent reasons for staying away turned to dust in his mind in face of the angry tears pouring down her cheeks. In a moment, he had her in his arms, and was kissing the tears away, murmuring apologies and endearments.
Finally, they drew a little apart. “I have made your shoulder damp,” Joselyn said, brushing at it ineffectually.
“We had better join the others, my love,” Felix said. “We have a busy day ahead of us.”
“Your love, Felix? You hardly know me. And I am still angry with you,” she continued sternly. “Do not think to butter me up with a few kisses.”
“After the ambush, I will tell you my whole story, and make whatever penance you assign. But, yes, you are my love. Now and forever, Joselyn. Show me the way to this meeting place. We can argue later.”
To be continued
